Never Letting Go
by Chloe Chamberleign
Summary: Mary and John Winchester always wanted a child but could never have one. When they meet Sam, he seems so far from what they expected their ideal child to be. Mary reasons that he needs them more than they need him. I guess the social worker forgot to mention he had an older, protective brother who isn't about to let anyone take away his little brother.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Yeah new story! So just a few things: Sam is seven and Dean is fifteen (I know, I know, not accurate but just roll with me) Please review if you want another chapter! Happy reading :)**

**Disclaimer: I no own**

Mary Winchester fastened the last wooden button on her green raincoat before wrapping her scarf around her neck and following her husband out the front door. The rain drizzled down from the gutter pipes and from the leaves of the tall oak trees surrounding the house as they hurried to John's '67 Chevy Impala. They shut the car doors quickly with a slam, and John switched on the windshield wipers as they began pulling out of the long driveway.

"Of course the day of our appointment is ruined with a storm," John muttered, trying blindly to see through the windshield as the rain pounded down.

Mary smiled warmly and checked her hair in the over-compartment mirror. "I wouldn't say it's ruined. And besides, you're the one who talked to the woman on the phone to set up a time in the first place."

The afternoon light had begun to fade from pale white to gold, and the wind had picked up, sending whirlwinds of fallen leaves tumbling across the street in the rain. When they paused at stop signs, the leaves blew against the car and made faint scraping noises.

"I just can't wait to meet them," Mary said, drumming along to the oldies song on the radio, "and then maybe they can come home with us today."

"Mary," John said, hesitating.

She turned the radio down. "Yeah?"

"I don't want this to sound to negative, because you obviously know more about kids than I do, but they could be seriously unpredictable. I don't think we should make a decision that quickly."

As John drove on, Mary looked at her finger nails, not saying a word.

"It's just that it could get . . . risky. I don't want you to get hurt if these children aren't who you wanted them to be."

"I'm going of my own free will," she said. "Stop making up reasons to feel bad."

She began tapping lightly on the dashboard, and John stared out the front windshield of the car, trying to ignore the doubt that hovered over his thoughts like the storm outside. Mary and him reached a delicate balance – and he didn't want to upset that balance by second-guessing her.

Neither of them said a word as he turned onto Tillerman Street.

They parked in a spot relatively close to the building. After turning off the engine, Mary gazed silently out the window, not moving, not even taking off her seatbelt. The air in the car seemed to settle, and the only sounds were their breathing and the scratching and skittering of the leaves outside.

John glanced at her at the corner of his eye. She sat straight up, her body rigid with stillness, like a tiger crouching in the grass. The sudden change in her behavior startled him.

"Are you okay?" John asked.

John didn't even notice her hand move, but her seatbelt clicked and went flying in violent release, alarming him. "You sure you want to do this?" John said, clicking his seatbelt.

She gulped in a breath of air and nodded resolutely. "I'm ready."

The car doors unlocked with a soft click, and they stepped onto the road. The rain had turned into a soft drizzle. The wind hurried by them, moaning softly. The perfect fall day was cooling into a chilly twilight, and the sky seemed to glow soft brown. John shivered involuntarily.

Mary grabbed her purse from her seat and faced the building. She closed the door. The noise seemed to get lost in the wind.

John volunteered for the front position, and Mary followed a few steps behind him.

The door looked heavy, and John pushed it open and hesitated for half a second before going inside.

Telephones rang loudly and adults dressed in very professional-looking clothes rushed about. A woman with ash blonde highlighted hair, blue eyes, and a clipboard walked over to the couple. "Hello, my name is Cecelia Wood. How can I help you?"

"We're the Winchesters," Mary answered, shaking the rain from her coat.

Mrs. Wood looked down through a list in her clipboard. "Winchesters, Winchesters…. Oh, here you are." She said, once she found their name. "And I have written down here that you have never fostered before, is that correct?"

John took Mary's hand and nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

Mrs. Wood smiled and moved to the side. "Follow me please," she said, before turning softly and began walking through the lobby. John held onto his wife's hand and followed the woman. The hallway they were led through seemed less and less like the office-type atmosphere that was first presented to them in the lobby. Door upon door lined the walls, some had pictures taped on them that had obviously been drawn and colored by young children.

Sounds of giggling and the occasional cry were heard coming from behind the doors. A line of children no older than seven followed a tired looking woman who seemed to be in her late fifties. Mary smiled at all of them. The children all gazed up at her with big, sad eyes as they walked past.

"Here we are," Mrs. Wood said, pushing open a door. "You'll have to excuse the mess. My office is a bit unorganized at the moment. I just had all of my things moved into here from the office upstairs."

Mary and John shuffled in, closing the door behind them. Files cabinets with their drawers half open and papers falling out. Empty Starbucks littered the desk. Mrs. Wood sat down at her desk and gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk.

John and Mary sat down and Mrs. Wood opened up a file. "Are you both employed?" Mrs. Wood asked, reading something from a document.

Mary hesitated and turned to John. "I'm a mechanic at a garage." John answered quickly.

Mrs. Wood turned to Mary. Mary paused. "No, I'm not." She smiled, but Mrs. Wood looked serious.

Mrs. Wood picked up the file. "You said in your application that you both are interested in fostering an older child. Are you sure you are willing to?" Mrs. Wood asked, considering the answers she had just received from them. "With the information you wrote on your application, you could easily be fostering a newborn in less than a year."

John took Mary's hand. "We've been waiting for a long time. We'd like to foster a child as soon as possible."

"Maybe eventually adopt," Mary added.

Mrs. Wood sighed and shook her head, smiling sadly. "You are right about one thing. Fostering an older child is a lot quicker. And it's also a lot cheaper. But…a lot of the older ones, as you might have guessed, have behavioral problems."

Mary looked down at the floor solemnly. John leaned back in his chair. "I was in the marines. I think I can handle any child."

Mrs. Wood nodded. "You two must really love children. Are you looking for a boy or girl?"

Smiling, Mary looked back up. "A boy. We'd like a little boy."

Mrs. Wood moved to one of the filing cabinets. "What kind of boy did you have in mind?"

The Winchesters thought a minute. Mary brightened and said, "One who's kind…who's smart but not too arrogant."

"How old?" Mrs. Wood asked, digging through file after file.

Mary and John looked at each other for a moment. "Seven?" John suggested.

"Here are several records of children," Mrs. Wood said, handing the couple about ten files. "Feel free to go through them."

John leaned in closer to see the files Mary was looking through. "How about him?" John said, pointing to a file with a picture of a boy with blonde hair and a wide smile. "It says his name is Evan Amsterdam."

Mary shook her head. "How about this one?" She showed him the file of an eight year old boy with brown eyes and missing two front teeth. "Mitchell Winters?"

Mrs. Wood peered over and stated her opinion about each of the children in the files she had given to the Winchesters. "Eric Singer is a very talented little boy, here's his picture. Oh and this file belongs to Toni Basset; he's a lovely boy. And this charming young fellow is Kyle Willow, and as you can see his file says that he's seven years old, like you asked. Oh but Jacob Stanton is a very nice child too." Mrs. Wood said triumphantly, pointing to each file Mary looked at.

"Who's this?" Mary asked finally, pulling out one of the manila files. She studied the pages of photocopied records in the folder. She closed the folder and looked at a Polaroid of a seven-year-old boy stapled to the cover. There was a name printed next to the photo but a coffee stain had almost blurred the words.

Mrs. Wood's smile faded. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hand you _that_ file. Sam isn't what you're looking for, trust me."

"Sam?" John asked.

"We don't normally do this, but I recommend not considering him," Mrs. Wood said, trying to take the file from Mary.

Mary kept a firm hold on the file. "Why?"

Mrs. Wood chewed on her lip and sighed. "Sam is just…he's just not very _calm _around other people. In fact we've had to isolate him from the other children. It's a strange thing really but there it is."

Mary and John exchanged a glance. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," John said, handing the file back to Mrs. Wood.

Mary scrunched her eyebrows. "Wait! Can we at least talk to him?" John shot her a glance of confusion. "I don't know what it is, but I feel like he might be a good fit for us."

"You think a child who is out of control is a good fit for us?" John repeated in disbelief.

"Please, John?" Mary looked at him with begging eyes. "We shouldn't judge him. We've never met the child."

John sighed and turned to Mrs. Wood. "Is there any way we could see him?"

Mrs. Wood took a deep breath and shook her head. "It's highly-"

"Please?" Mary asked. "If we decide we don't want to consider him, we'll tell you."

Mrs. Wood nodded. "Alright," she said, taking some keys from a drawer and handing the file back to Mary. "Follow me,"

John took his wife's hand and followed the woman down the hall and up several flights of stairs.

"Just a minute please," Mrs. Wood said to them before entering one of the rooms.

Mary flipped through the pages in the folder as they waited for Mrs. Wood to return. John gave her an amused look. Mary looked up at him. "What? You're not worried about being prepared?"

John laughed. "Well I'm not going to memorize his entire profile. There's not going to be a quiz later." Mary smiled and closed the folder.

The door opened again and Mrs. Wood appeared. "Come on in," she said, her voice nervous. John walked in after Mary and noticed a boy sitting in front of the window in a small room that contained one bed. Mrs. Wood must've really meant that she kept him isolated. "Sam, look who's here to see you." Mrs. Wood said, getting the boy's attention. The young child turned and stared blankly and John and Mary. Mary knelt in front of him.

"Hey there," She smiled softly.

Sam's expression of indifference never changed. He just sat there like a terrified rabbit when it hears a twig snap.

Mary looked back at her husband and Mrs. Wood curiously. She turned back to Sam.

The child looked about seven years old with pale skin and green eyes, his delicate features shaped with soft brown curls that resemble waves. John awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, walking over to join his wife. "Um, hey there buddy." John said finally.

Slowly, the small boy looked up at him. His eyes widened slightly.

"Um," John pointed to the little stuffed animal bunny clasped tightly in the kid's arm. "He yours?"

It was a stupid question but John didn't know what else to say. The kid seemed to forget he was holding anything in his arms. He looked down at it and hugged it tighter. Once again, he said nothing.

"What's his name?" John asked, kneeling down to the boy's level.

The boy blushed and backed up a little. He looked at his stuffed bunny carefully. "Bear," He said in a raspy whisper.

John laughed. "Bear? But it's a rabbit."

The little boy looked hurt, like he was about to cry. John stopped laughing and waved his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa kid I'm sorry. Bear's a great name for a…bunny." He said.

The little boy sniffled and wiped his eyes with his pajama sleeve.

John nodded and smiled. "I'm John, and this is my wife Mary. Nice to meet you,"

Sam loosened the tight grip on his stuffed rabbit.

Mary reached out her hand. "Can I see your rabbit? It's very cute."

Sam's eyes widened and he quickly stood and ran over to his bed, where he quickly hid under it. Whimpering was heard from under the bed.

Mrs. Wood gasped and hurried over to the bed. "Sam, you get out from under there this instant! These kind people have come all this way and you're showing them respect by hiding?"

John cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "That won't be necessary. I'm sure he has his reasons,"

Mrs. Wood sighed and walked back over to them. "This is what I was trying to tell you about. The child is very unpredictable."

Mary shook her head. "No," she said in a pitiful voice. "He's just lost, poor thing. He needs us," she said quietly.

John hesitated. "Mary, I'm not sure we're ready to handle-"

"We're willing foster him," Mary said before John could finish. John looked stunned and then tried to argue but Mary was determined. "Please? Can't you see he needs a loving environment?"

Mrs. Wood sighed. "You aren't the first to have said this, Mrs. Winchester," she said in an indifferent tone. "But, it is not my place to tell you which child is better than the other." She scribbled some things down on a clipboard. "A social worker will be there at eleven for you to sign the placement agreement."

Mary smiled, pulling her coat back on. "Thank you so much for all your help," She said, giving Mrs. Wood a warm hug. Mid-embrace, Mary noticed a shadow in the corner. Sam was lingering under the bed, peering at them shyly. Mrs. Wood and John looked at him too.

As they got back in the car, there were a few minutes of silence, before Mary mused, "I think we're making the right decision."

John sighed. "Terribly shy kid, though." He thought for a minute. "I wonder why."

"Well there are lots of reasons that cause anxiety," Mary said.

"It just blows my mind. A child as scared and seemingly shy as that seems so perfect for us." John said, shaking his head.

Mary turned to him. "You sound like you're sorry we're fostering him."

"No, of course not. I just hope he's everything you wanted." He answered. Mary shot him a look. John shrugged.

The next morning at ten o'clock, the Winchesters were up and ready to sign the papers to foster Sam. Mary dried her hair in the bathroom as John got dressed. Mary went down to get lunch ready in time for the social worker and Sam to arrive. She looked at the clock: eleven-thirty. Thirty minutes late?

"John, I think we'd better go over there," Mary said, throwing on her coat.

John sighed from his place at the table. "They're just running late."

Mary grabbed the keys. "Are you coming or not?"

Groaning, John stood up and followed her out the door. When the reached the Children's Home, they hurried inside and talked to the woman at the front desk. Mrs. Wood came from around the corner and led them down the hall. "I'm so glad you came. We've actually been meaning to call you but it's been complicated."

John gave her a confused look. "Is the paperwork not completely filled out or-"

"No, it's not that," Mrs. Wood shook her head. "It's just that…"

Loud yells were coming from behind one of the doors. A man dressed in a security uniform opened the door and looked at Mrs. Wood. "He's out of control, Cecelia. I'm going to have to call in back-up. If worse comes to worst, maybe even sedate him."

Mrs. Wood turned nervously to the two stunned Winchesters. "I'm afraid our little problem of giving Sam to you is in there," she said, pointing to inside the room where the guard had just come out of. The door swung open. A boy of about fifteen was struggling against four guards in white uniforms.

The boy looked up, his dark green eyes glaring at the Winchesters. His dark blonde hair looked wild from an obvious scuffle that had broken out amongst him and the guards. He wore a plaid shirt under a t-shirt, jeans, and All-Star sneakers. "You the sons of bitches who wanna take my baby brother away?!" He yelled, fire and rage in his voice.

He tried to lunge at them but the guards held him back. Mary and John exchanged a glance. What had they gotten themselves into?


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Chapter 2! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Ha, I wish**

The guards managed to shove the teenager back inside the room and shut the door quickly. Mary and John looked startled as they began to step back. Mrs. Wood clicked her tongue at the roof of her mouth and readjusted her collar. She turned to the couple. "As you can see, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, we have the situation under control. You have nothing to worry about."

"Worry about?" John stared at the woman with uncertainty. "Are you kidding me?" He gestured to the door where the teenager had just been pulled back through.

Mrs. Wood shook her head. "It'll only be just a moment of your time, Mr. Winchester," she said, keeping her voice calm. "I'll take care of this. It's not a problem. Happens all the time when the siblings get separated."

Mary covered her mouth in horror. "You mean Sam has a brother?"

John raised his eyebrows at Mrs. Wood. "When were you going to tell us this exactly?! How did you fail to mention that one?"

Mrs. Wood looked coldly at him. "Now listen. I know this will be hard for Dean-"

"Dean?" John crossed his arms.

"_His brother_," Mrs. Wood explained. "But if you really want to foster Sam, he'll have to let him go."

Mary shook her head, her expression in complete dismay. "Oh God no, I couldn't live with myself if we were responsible for separating them."

Mrs. Wood shrugged. "Believe me, Mrs. Winchester; you would be making the world a better place by fostering Sam. Like you said, he needs a loving home. Dean will only cause trouble. Boys like him end up in juvenile facilities. Don't waste your time. We will have Sam ready in a few minutes."

The door opened again and a much calmer, collected Dean stepped out, his hands cuffed and his shoulders held tightly by one of the guards. He glared at Mrs. Wood and then at the Winchesters.

Mrs. Wood spoke first. "Dean, please understand that Sam needs a home. And you're just holding him back," she said, her voice dry of sympathy.

Dean lazily looked over at her. "No, we stay together…"

Mrs. Wood gave a frustrated sigh. "Dean, when we found you, both of you, you were living in deplorable conditions, full of filth and no food…Sam would be dead if it weren't for us…"

Dean said nothing. He looked at his shoes. Then he glanced back up at Mary and John. "Why do you want Sam anyway?" He asked, suspicion in his voice. "And dammit you better tell me the truth."

Mrs. Wood answered for them. "Because they want to possibly adopt a child, and they think Sam is the perfect fit…now if you love Sam, you'll do what's best for him…Give him to these good people for them to raise him."

Dean scowled deeply. "Good people? Heard that one before. Just leave my brother alone, got it?"

Mrs. Wood hushed him. "I've already given them the paperwork. And I've told them that Sam deserves a good place to live."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, oh and did you also mention to them that I'm not allowed to see him? That you keep us separated while we're here? Did that ever come up? Huh?"

Mary turned to Mrs. Wood. "Is this true? You won't let them play together?"

Dean scoffed. "Lady, they won't even let us talk to each other. I appreciate the concern, but I'm done playing happy family. I've done it too many times and nothing ever worked out in the end."

John spoke next. "Dean, calm down-"

Dean whipped around to face him, his face fuming. "Calm down?! Don't make me angry and then tell me to freaking calm down! That's like cutting someone's freaking finger off and telling them to stop bleeding!"

John looked amused. This boy was intelligent; he had wit, maybe even cleverness. But what good was it to tell him to calm down?

"You're taking away my little brother forever," Dean furthered. "So don't you dare tell _me _to calm down."

"Don't talk back, Dean," Mrs. Wood said in her same calm voice.

Dean fumed. "I'm not talking back, I'm explaining to them why they are ruining my life!"

"Dean stop it this instant!" Mrs. Wood shouted. "You're just lying to yourself, Dean."

"_I'm_ lying? You're the one who promised never to split us up when we first got here!" Dean was persistant. The guard holding him squeezed his shoulder painfully.

"Stop it!" Mary said. "You'll hurt the poor boy!"

John stared at Dean. "Are you and Sam really brothers?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, we're really sisters."

John sighed. This was going to be tricky. "What I'm saying is, how would you like it if Mary and I considered fostering both of you?"

Dean laughed mockingly. "You don't even know us."

Mary smiled softly. "We'd get to know you. Why don't we set up a conference with you and Sam back at our house? That way we can get to know you and you can get to know us? A social worker will come along too."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "How can I trust you?"

John shrugged. "You can't. But have we given you a reason not to?"

Dean sighed. "Okay, fine."

Mrs. Wood nodded. "I'll go with them myself. We can follow you over there. Sound good?"

Mary and John nodded. The Winchesters got back in the Impala and headed home, the social worker's car behind them containing Dean and Sam. As John opened the front door, the car pulled into the driveway. The social worker stepped out first and opened the door for Dean, who stepped out first. He picked Sam up in his arms, who was still clutching the stuffed bunny tightly.

Mary welcomed them in and led them to the living room. The social worker sat down on the couch. Dean just stood there holding Sam. "Please sit down, Dean," Mary smiled.

Dean moved to the couch and sat, Sam burying his face in Dean's shirt.

Mary and John sat in the couch across from them. "So, um, Dean why don't we start with you. Is there anything you like or love? Strengths or weaknesses?"

Dean plastered on a fake smile. "Strengths? Why yes," he said in a mocking tone. John closed his eyes and sighed. This should be good. "I'm probably the kid who always shows up for school, even if I'm stoned. I can work with morons without killing them. I'm pretty loyal; if you adopt me I'll get the family crest tattooed on my arm. And I'd make a great addition to your softball team." He thought for a moment. "I have no known weaknesses."

"What do you plan to do with your future?" Mary asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, lady, my time machine's broken."

John and Mary exchanged a look. "How old are you?" Mary asked.

"Old enough to take care of me and my little brother." Dean replied coldly. He looked at Mrs. Wood. "Are we done here?"

"Dean," John said, leaning forward. "Mary and I would like to foster you. Both of you. And it is entirely up to you, but we'd really like it if you came and stayed with us for a while."

Mrs. Wood nodded. "They're serious about this. Think about it. You and your brother would finally have a real home. I don't think keeping Sam in a care home is the best thing for him. You know that as well as I do."

Mary smiled. "You can go back to the care home with Sam whenever you feel you don't like it here anymore, but just try it."

Dean was silent for a moment. He looked down at his little brother. Sam peered back up at him and tugged on his shirt. Dean sighed and shrugged. "Fine," he mumbled.

Mary grinned. "I'm so glad," She turned to Mrs. Wood. "Will you send over their things?"

Mrs. Wood shook her head. "Neither Dean nor Sam own any things."

Mary looked pitiful at them. John placed a hand gently on Mary's shoulder. "They do now. Tomorrow morning we'll go shopping for new clothes. How does that sound?"

Dean glared at him. "I really don't care."

Mrs. Wood collected the paperwork and headed for the door. "I'll be stopping by in a week to see how they're getting on."

"Thanks," John said, opening the door for her. "We'll call you if we need anything."

After Mrs. Wood left, things seemed different. Dean's calm expression hardened and Sam clasped onto his brother tighter. Mary began to walk toward them.

Dean suddenly sprang up, clutching Sam in his arms. "Stay the hell away from him." Dean said through gritted teeth.

Mary was taken aback by this sudden change in character. The once cocky, sarcastic boy was now in full aggressive, mother cobra mode. This was going to be an interesting evening at the Winchesters.


End file.
